


when i close my eyes

by antepenelope



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Leia and Luke Know They're Related, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Torture, Pining, Post-ANH, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-ESB, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:12:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6010561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antepenelope/pseuds/antepenelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han Solo breaks into a rogue Imperial base to rescue Luke Skywalker after two months of captivity. He's wounded from torture, so Leia sends them to the healer planet of Terra. But Luke may bear invisible scars that even healers cannot fix.</p><p>For this prompt on the Star Wars Kink Meme: https://starwarskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/586.html?thread=376906#cmt376906</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set directly after A New Hope.
> 
> Warnings: There are some brief descriptions of physical and psychological torture in this fic, and an exploration of its after-effects. One character experiences PTSD symptoms, panic attacks, nightmares and hallucinations. Uh, happy Valentine's Day?

_It had been fifty-seven days, or fifty-nine. He knew it was essential that he keep count. He had an idea that if he could remember the number, he’d remember who he was._

_The door shivered, the metal rippling. He flinched and bent his head. But it stopped._

_Once, he had been a hero._

_That was hard to remember now. It had been hard to remember even in the first few days under capture, when he was breathing terror, in and out. Then the terror was no longer so urgent, no longer filled his eyes and heart – it thrummed through his muscles and veins like a constantly grating bow on a violin string. Then the feelings faded still more, and now he felt blank, packed with sawdust._

_Sometimes when he had been standing alone in his pitch-black cell for too long, if he had been there for say fifty hours, standing, not allowed to sit, blood dripping down his face after hours and hours in the Room, things began to swim away._

_Who am I? he asked the emptiness. Who was I? And then he was angry with himself because it had only been fifty-six days, or fifty-five._

_Now he was in the Room, waiting for his captors. The metal door shivered again, and Luke tried not to flinch. Then it opened. Luke bowed his head._

_‘Luke,’ said a hoarse, warm voice. Then it whispered: ‘Luke.’ He heard an animal roar of anguish._

_He looked up slowly._

_Han Solo, in his old worn vest, looking at him with gentle eyes, but so full of pain._

_He looked exactly the same, so exactly the same as his memories of him that Luke thought it must be a dream. And Chewie beside him, face contorted. It was he who had roared._

_Han came over to Luke and pressed a small device to his handcuffs. They popped open._

_‘Can you walk?’ he said urgently, as Luke stared at his freed wrists. The skin was clammy and puckered._

_‘I don’t think so.’ They had broken most of the bones in his foot yesterday._

_Han scanned his body, his glance lingering at his right arm, which would no longer hang right, and his hairline, which he knew was crusted with dried blood. His eyes closed for just a second, and then he swooped down, placed one arm under Luke’s back and one under his knees, and lifted him easily to his chest._

_‘They’ll find us,’ said Luke._

_‘No,’ said Han, ‘they won’t. They’re all dead.’ He said it with a kind of bitter triumph. Luke noticed there were blood spatters on his clothes._

_Chewie roared at Han._

_‘No. I’ve got him,’ said Han, shortly, pulling Luke a little closer to his chest. And they began to run._

_It was only when the ship was in light-speed that he allowed himself to believe that Han and Chewie might have really done it. That they might all be getting out alive._

_And even then, he kept having to turn around because he thought he heard the sound that haunted his dreams: those echoing, heavy footsteps coming down the metal corridors to find him._

* * *

 It was a couple days’ journey back to the Rebel base. Chewie had, at Luke’s request, cleaned and dressed Luke in Han’s shirt and trousers, and bandaged up his worst wounds. Chewie had treated him with utmost care, but Han had still heard his little muffled cries of pain. He was now sleeping quietly on a little cot-bed just behind the pilots’ seats. 

Back at the base, droids were running up information on the visual scans Han had taken of some of the captors he’d killed. They had once been Imperial men, as Han and Leia had thought, but they had gone rogue. Why they took Luke, he had no idea.

‘Han,’ said Leia abruptly. ‘There’s more we know. We’ve decided it’s best for you and Luke to land on another planet, far away from the base. Planet Terra, in the Salutem system. There’s a settlement of people there, renowned healers, that will care for Luke. I will meet you there.’

Han glanced over at Luke. He seemed to be deeply asleep, bundled in blankets, his newly-clean hair falling in a blond shower over his eyes. But at the back of his mind all Han could see was that little metal room and Luke in the middle of it. Like a broken thing, with hunted fear in his eyes. His eyes – once so piercing and certain and innocent, and there pale and lost and fragile, the gaze wavering uncertainly, afraid even to meet his own.

He put his foot down on the thrusters. They had to get him to Terra.

* * *

They landed safely on green-and-blue Terra, by what Leia had told him was the best hospital on the planet. It was a white concrete block partly hidden by trees, surrounded by lush, green grounds.

When Leia had said ‘healers,’ Han had imagined a group of druids living barefoot in the forest – but it was clear from the hospital that these people’s healing techniques were more technological than mystical _. Good,_ thought Han. _We might have some real chance of healing the kid if we’re not depending on magical mumbo-jumbo._

Chewie gently picked Luke up, who moaned with pain, and they went straight to reception. The reception-droids took one look at Luke and paged a doctor.

A tall, slim woman with a red ponytail walked out, surrounded by four spindly med-droids, two holding a stretcher. She waved away their explanations and ordered the med-droids to take Luke into the ICU. The doors shut ahead of him and Chewie instantly.

‘Wait!’ he shouted, shoving at the white plastic, but the doors were sealed. ‘Hey! This ain’t funny!’

[Why wouldn’t they want someone like you in a high-risk medical area? I have no idea,] growled Chewie.

‘Shut up and help me look for a way through.’ They split up and nosed around.

[This way!] Chewie cried and began hurtling down a passageway. Han sprinted after him.

‘Wookiee on the loose! Mad Wookiee on the loose!’ Han shouted, causing doctors and nurses and med-droids to spring out of their path in alarm. Chewie leapt up a flight of stairs.

[That’s our doctor,] said Chewie, gesturing.

‘Oi! Doc!’ She turned, red ponytail bouncing.

‘Hey,’ he said, giving her his best sliding half-smile. ‘Uh, my friend Luke Skywalker is under your care…’

‘That’s right,’ she said crisply. ‘He’s in a stable condition. The droids are assessing him now. I will be back to check on him in ten minutes.’

‘Me and Chewie actually rescued the kid ourselves, and it’s kind of worryin’ us, you know, that he’s just been locked away in some room. We want to see him, make sure he’s okay –'

‘Luke is currently undergoing a thorough medical examination. We can let you know the results of that once it’s finished, if you like.'

' _No,_ I don’t _like,_ damn it!’

[Han,] warned Chewie, but his growl seemed to alarm the medic even further. She took a step backwards and raised her clipboard protectively between herself and Han, who had advanced towards her.

‘Show me where he is,’ Han said, deceptively calm. ‘Now.’

‘According to Alliance communication, your friend has been through a very difficult time, and he’ll need a period of isolation and a thorough psychological analysis. I assure you, we are well trained and equipped in assessing whether our patients are “all right.” You, on the other hand, good though your intentions may be, may not be equipped with the best skills for dealing with someone in this vulnerable mental state. Extended imprisonment and torture has complicated effects on the mind. Mr. Skywalker may be immensely fragile at this stage. It’s no j–'

‘I KNOW it’s no joke,’ roared Han. ‘You think I think this is a damned _joke?_ I thought Luke was going to be killed. I thought I’d lose him forever. And now – now he’s finally back, but he’s – he’s hurt,’ he said, voice cracking, ‘and I still can’t see him, can’t talk to him, because you _slimesuckers_ won’t let me NEAR HIM.’

He’d advanced forward so he was almost touching her. He felt helplessly angry, and she didn’t seem remotely fazed. Chewie’s paw wrapped around his arm.

[Han, stop. She’s pretending. She smells like fear.]

Han faltered, uncurled his hands, and stepped away.

‘I just want to see him,’ he said, bowing his head.

‘I’m afraid that’s impossible at this point in time,’ she said coolly. If he’d had any hope of winning her over before, it was gone.

‘Well, thanks very much,’ he said, trying very hard not to make his smile too much like a sneer. He stalked away.

Han sat heavily on the stairs and put his head in his hands.

[So, shall we grab dinner?] said Chewie, after a few seconds. That damn Wookiee only ever thought about one thing.

‘Are you kidding?’ said Han. 'Let's nick the floor plans.'

Even if this hospital was filled with talented healers, the security measures he’d observed seemed pathetically weak. Might be fun to test its limits.

Chewie sighed, and followed Han down the corridor, stomach rumbling like a concrete mixer.

But waiting by the administration desk was Princess Leia.

* * *

‘Han,’ she said, looking exhausted, throwing her arms around him. ‘I can’t believe you found him.’ He held her tightly and felt her shoulders shake. He knew how afraid she had been.

‘He’s fine,’ Han said gently. ‘The doctors are taking good care of him.’

He hugged her for a while, and then she drew back, visibly pulling herself together.

‘Thank you,’ she said, wiping her eyes, ‘for your bravery and determination in bringing back my brother.’

‘It’s nothin’, Leia,’ said Han quietly.

She straightened, looking more like her usual, regal self. ‘They’ve found out more about the rogue Imperials. Why they went for Luke.’

‘Right.’ Han wasn’t sure how much he cared to know. Part of him desperately wanted something to hang his hatred onto. Some reason to pull out of the chaos of Luke’s capture and torture. Another part of him never wanted to hear about them again.

‘They’d been subordinate to Vader in the Death Squadron, and departed in secret after the Battle of Yavin. They were disdainful of him as a ruler, and disbelieved in the Force. They’d discovered Vader was obsessed with Luke for some reason. They captured him purely in order to spite him, it seems.’

‘Vader’s obsessed with Luke?’ said Han, his stomach clenching.

‘Yes,’ she said, anxiety passing over her face. ‘It is dangerous for him to spend a long period of time on one planet, and it may be the healers’ request for Luke to stay here for a long time in order to fully recover from the physical and psychological effects. We will take measures to ensure he’s able to evacuate if found –’

‘What are you talkin’ about, Leia. He don’t need _measures to evacuate_. He’s got me.’

‘Han, he might be here weeks, even months.’

‘Then so will I,’ said Han stubbornly, making Leia sigh in disbelief. But she let it go.

* * *

 

It had taken Han and Chewie almost an hour to successfully distract the reception droids and nick the floor plan. After that, Chewie had bodily dragged Han into the taverna across the street.

Now, in the bright light of morning, they were both staring up at Luke’s window, waiting for a response.

‘He must be asleep,’ said Han, defeated.

[Try again.]

Han hurled another handful of pebbles at the window. _Rat-at-at-at._

'Luke!’ he finally shouted, losing patience. ‘Open the window!’ Nothing.

Han half-heartedly hurled one more pebble. _Tak._

And the window opened a crack.

‘Han?’ he heard softly.

He let out a whoop, and Chewie immediately thumped him. [ _S_ _hut up! They’ll hear!_ ] 

The trouble with Wookiees, Han thought grumpily, was that you couldn’t thump ‘em back. Without risking severe internal organ damage. Han called out, more quietly:

'Open that window as wide as it’ll go.’ Luke complies. ‘Now get your ass back into bed, kid, I’m comin’ up! Hey, Chew, gimme a leg up.’

Chewie bent down and put his hands out, palms up. Luke’s bedroom was on the second floor, and technically a bit out of reach of a run-of-the-mill leg-up, but he and Chewie had perfected their technique years ago. Han leapt onto Chewie’s hands and grabbed his shoulders.

'One – two –‘ and Chewie’s arms surged up at the same time as Han pushed off, hurling Han up into the air towards the window. Han didn’t so much sail through, as crash directly into, the window, but he managed to hook both of his arms around the inside of the frame.

'Han?’ he heard Luke say.

‘Be with you in just a second, Luke. Gotta, uh, take an important business call,’ Han grunted, heaving himself up, and he heard Luke’s soft laugh. His shirt was riding up, his stomach scraping over the wall.

‘Need a hand?’

‘Don’t even think about getting out of that bed, kid,’ said Han, his legs flailing ever more wildly in the air. He heard Chewie’s wailing laughter from down below. ‘Shut it!’ he yelled.

‘Not you,' he added to Luke.

He kicked harder, his legs churning on invisible pedals, earning another long groan of laughter from Chewie. In a surge of indignant anger – _I’m Han Solo, the best pilot in the galaxy, not some laughing stock, damnit!_ – he managed to heave himself up over the sill and crash inelegantly into the room, pulling a lamp down with him.

‘Han!’ said Luke, laughing brightly. Han twisted his neck to try to look at him, forgetting his inelegant position. He’d never thought he’d hear that laugh again.

He scrambled to his feet. Cleaned up and alert, Luke looked just the same as he remembered him, if you discounted the bandages wrapped around his head and both his hands. Same strong jaw, same straight nose, same big ol’ eyes. And his eyes had lost that fogged-over look they’d had in the rogues’ station; they were the the soft, lucid blue he remembered – now glinting with amusement.

‘Sorry about – ‘ Han waved at the lamp on the floor.

’S’okay. Those business calls can be stressful,’ said Luke, mouth twitching. He adjusted his blankets, and Han saw his right arm was in a sling. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but there was a noise at the door, and they both froze.

It didn’t open. Han strode over and locked it, then did his best to put everything back into place rapidly, turning the severely bent part of the lampshade to the wall.

‘How are ya?’ he said, sinking into a chair.

‘I’m really good, Han,’ said Luke, giving him a glowing smile. And that smile was just the same.

He couldn’t believe that Luke was so well. He seemed… happy, light-hearted. Han found himself staring at him, unable to believe that this was real, when a week ago he had been despairing of ever finding him.

‘Luke…’ he said softly, reaching out for a hand. ‘What was it like?’

Wrong question. Luke’s face closed off, as if curtains had been drawn behind his eyes.

‘Sorry,’ Han said quickly. ‘Don’t need to answer that.’ He paused uncomfortably. _‘_ How's that red-headed doctor treating you?’

‘Oh, Dr Riley – she’s great,’ said Luke earnestly, brightness returning. ‘She seems tough, but deep down she’s really caring.'

‘I’m sure. So what’ve they been doing to you, these doctors?

Luke’s eyes shifted. ‘Oh, you know… tests and things. Making sure I’m not crazy.'

‘You’re not.’

Luke smiled half-heartedly. ‘Thanks for the faith, Han.’

‘And – what about the, y’know, physical stuff? You all in working order?’

Luke smiled again. Now Han saw – he wasn’t smiling because he was happy. It was a smile designed to reassure him.

‘Nothing they can’t fix.’

‘Luke,’ said Han urgently, feeling like there were vast distances stretching between them, like Luke was drifting too far away to reach. ‘There’s something you’re hiding, ain’t there?'

Luke looked down.

‘Luke,’ Han said again, more insistently. ‘You can tell me.’ Unconsciously he leaned forward and took Luke’s good hand. Luke seemed to be fighting some kind of mental battle, and then to come to a decision.

‘You shouldn’t be in here,’ he said quietly, moving his hand away.

‘What?’

Luke looked down, jaw clenching. He didn’t say anything else.

‘But – it’s _me_ , Luke.’

Luke wouldn’t look at him.

He waited for a stupidly long time, sure Luke was going to change his mind. But Luke stayed still and silent, and Han finally rose up to leave, feeling like he’d been punched in the stomach.

But his feelings didn’t matter, not now. He wasn’t the one in the hospital bed.

‘I’m so glad,’ he said, his voice breaking, closing his eyes for a second and seeing, yet again, the image that sometimes seemed now to be etched on his eyelids, a frail, broken Luke chained to a metal table. ‘I’m just so glad to see you safe. It’s all – it’s all I’ve wanted, for the last two months.’

‘Mr. Solo?’

He turned around. Dr. Riley and Leia were standing in the doorway.

* * *

 

Leia seized his arm and yanked him down the hallway. Dr Riley trailed behind ominously.

‘ _Stars_ , Leia!’

‘What were you doing in there?’ she said, chest heaving. She didn’t look angry, she looked like she was about to cry, but Han didn’t have the time to join her on whatever emotional journey she was on.

‘I was _trying_ to talk to my friend,’ he snarled.

Leia gave a voiceless snarl in return and pulled Han and into an empty room while making her apologies to Dr Riley. Han was simmering with resentment.

'I won’t be kept from him.'

‘You have  _no idea_ what my brother’s been through _–'_

This struck Han almost physically. Had he maybe told Leia something? He didn’t – what – trust Han enough?

He kicked viciously at the ground.

‘He wanted to see me, I know he did.'

‘I’m sure that’s what he told you. But sometimes it’s good to think about other people and what they’re going through before you break into their hospital rooms uninvited.’

‘So I’m supposed to just be fine with not seeing him? Might I remind you that _I_ was the one who damn well rescued him?’

‘Luke owes you nothing for the fact that you rescued him. _Nothing._  Just get that into your thick skull, would you?'

‘He _kinda_ owes me his life,’ said Han insolently.

Leia’s voice was icy. ‘You sicken me, Han Solo.’ She turned and walked away.

Han was speechless. He wanted to shout back a retort, but something stopped him.

It was shame. Shame at seeing himself through her eyes.

Because he had assumed Luke would want to see him. Would want to talk to him.

But what right did he have to assume anything?


	2. Chapter 2

Chewie left in a rented ship a few days later, to take a very nicely-paid mission which Han had turned down, electing instead to mope around in the Falcon. He kept telling himself he’d go to the hospital the next day and sort everything out, and every day he was too afraid of something. Maybe of seeing the same cold look in Luke’s eyes again.

Ten days after Chewie left, he was letting the ramp down to walk into town, when he found a letter taped to the hull. His name was scrawled in Luke’s handwriting. He opened it hurriedly.

_Dear Han,_

_I bribed a nurse to deliver this to the Falcon, because no one seems to have seen you recently._

_I_ _’m sorry I was strange the other day. I wasn’t feeling great._ _I didn’t mean to stop you coming by, though._

_I miss you._

_Could you maybe come by today? Dr Riley might be annoyed, but it doesn’t matter._

_(She_ really _doesn’t like you, Han. You didn’t try to flirt with her, did you?)_

_I have “nap time” between 2 and 4 pm. We could play holo-chess?_

_– Luke_

* * *

 Han was outside Luke’s room at two on the dot. The door was pulled open to reveal two familiar glares.

‘What are you doing here?’ said Dr Riley, exasperation finally cracking the blank mask of her face.

‘Luke doesn’t want you, Han,’ said Leia.

‘I do want him,’ said a quiet voice through a crack in the door. ‘I want Han to come in, please. Leia. Dr Riley.'

Leia’s face softened at the sound of her brother, and she stepped aside, looking conflicted, while Dr Riley’s face hardened, and, crossing her arms, she moved aside only just enough to let him in. Han ignored Riley, but smiled gratefully at Leia, who sniffed. It felt a little like being allowed audience in the chamber of the angels. But it was only Luke in the bed, blessedly human, smiling at him, with a thick cast on his arm and elbow. All of his scratches and wounds seemed to have disappeared completely.

‘Hey, old man,’ he said happily.

Han cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. His throat was suddenly, inexplicably tight.

‘Eloise and I are leaving,’ said Leia from behind him. Luke murmured a goodbye, but Han didn’t bother to turn around.

‘Hey,’ said Luke when the door had closed after them. ‘I wanted to say I’m sorry –'

‘What are you talkin’ about,’ said Han. ’It’s me who should be sorry. You don’t need to give me a word of explanation if you don’t want to. All right?'

‘Thank you,’ said Luke quietly, then smiled. 'Let’s play chess?'

He took out the holo-chess and they began to play. Han witnessed what seemed like a series of  increasingly embarrassing moves from his opponent, until it became clear Luke’s heart wasn’t at all in the game. He kept glancing out the window, his eyes catching the gleaming light.

‘What’s eatin’ you?’ said Han.

‘They won’t let me go outside,’ Luke said. ‘It looks so nice out there.’

‘As much as I don’t like the staff here, maybe they’ve got reason there, Luke. You need to heal.’

‘But I am healed. Practically. Thanks to lots of bacta treatments,’ said Luke, wrinkling his nose. ‘I’m totally healthy now, I swear. It’s just a couple broken bones left to go.’ He pulled back the blankets to show Han the cast on his foot.

‘You sure?’

Luke nodded enthusiastically. ‘I can’t walk. But we could take the wheelchair.’ He gestured to one in the corner of the room. ‘Dr Riley says it’s still too soon, but I think she’s wrong.’

‘This Riley’s actin’ like your prison guard. Don’t seem to give a damn that you’re the saviour of the galaxy or anything...'

‘That’s complimentary coming from you,’ said Luke, laughing. ‘Used to be ‘uppity runt’ and ‘whiny infant,’ as I recall.’

‘Hey, I called you those things so your head didn’t swell. I was lookin’ out for you, kid.’

‘Oh, is _that_ what you were doing?'

'But when it’s a matter of freedom,’ Han went on, ‘we oughta remind them who they’re dealing with. Why don’t you use that Force nonsense, eh? Warp the doctors’ minds.’

But that was the wrong thing to say. Luke’s face shut down immediately.

Well, then. No Force, just good old-fashioned ingenuity, that was how he liked it. Han went to the wheelchair and began to set it up.

He wheeled it over.

‘I’m Dr Solo, your _cool_ new doctor. Dr Riley’s in surgery to remove a... massive stick from somewhere. Now, I may not have any medical qualifications, but I’ve got the confidence to make up for it. And I say fresh air’s essential for good health. So, why don’t we have a little... excursion, Mr Skywalker?’

He pulled the chair flush against Luke’s bedside.

Luke grinned and made to shift himself over. ‘Ah!’ he hissed, recoiling in pain.

‘What hurts?’

‘My elbow. Only a bit,’ he added hastily, ‘it’s nothing.’

‘Aw,’ said Han, heart sinking, fun forgotten. ‘This is way too risky. Let’s forget it.’

‘No!’ said Luke quickly. ‘No, please, Han. It doesn’t hurt that much. Please, I can’t bear to stay in here any longer. I’m going crazy.’

He seemed so desperate to go outside that Han found it hard to say no to him. He himself had noticed that the room was a little too reminiscent of the horrific place he had rescued Luke from; small, covered in strange instruments, and with Luke bed-bound in the centre. No wonder he hated it.

‘I’ll lift you out, then,’ Han said questioningly, coming forward. ‘And we’ll take it real slow, all right?’

Luke nodded and Han gently eased him out of bed, slowly and carefully. He was still a bit lighter than he rightly should be, he thought. He settled him in the wheelchair, and scrutinised him to make sure he was sitting comfortably.

‘You want a blanket or something? Extra pillows?'

‘I’m fine. Let’s go!’ said Luke, light catching in his eyes. Han grabbed the wheelchair’s handles, steeling himself. Then he pushed open the door and they walked out.

Straight into a throng of med-droids, who all beeped in alarm.

‘Mr Skywalker, what are you doing out of bed?’ they said in harmony.

‘Run!’ Luke said. Han hesitated.

‘Come on,’ Luke said, looking at him miserably. ‘Please, Han, let’s do something fun for once.’ The droids were advancing, their funny little metal arms swaying towards their patient.

Han obeyed and sped off in the opposite direction, trying very hard not to bounce Luke about in his wheelchair. But even when he accidentally went over a bump in the carpet, Luke seemed utterly unhurt, laughing raucously.

‘That way!’ he cried, pointing to some double doors. Han went through them backwards, ensuring they didn't touch Luke. There was a woman sweeping the corridor floor. Han gave her a winning smile as he spun the wheelchair around.

‘Just taking the little fella for his morning walk,’ he said, sprinting past her.

' _L_ _ittle fella_?’ he heard Luke say indignantly as Han burst them backwards through the next set of doors. ‘Hey, look, there’s a way out!'

It was an emergency exit staircase. He paused, pretty sure carrying Luke’s wheelchair down five flights of stairs was not a good idea.

And then Dr Riley, accompanied by the throng of med-droids, appeared behind them with a face like ice.

‘ _W_ _hat–'_ she said.

He could pick Luke up and run, but he hesitated to do it without permission. Somehow it was too sickly reminiscent of the rescue mission.

‘Carry me?’ Luke suggested, and Han nodded.

But it was too late. Dr Riley seized Luke's wheelchair, turning it towards her and taking the handles.

‘What the hell are you doing with my patient, Solo?’ Dr Riley almost shouted, any trace of composure gone.

Luke looked at him imploringly. So he swooped forward and picked Luke up, cradling him to his chest, and backed towards the door.

Luke gave a whoop, then turned rapidly to look back at Dr Riley, apparently realising that this kind of behaviour might be damaging the doctor-patient relationship.

‘Sorry, Dr Riley, I just really wanted some fresh air – ‘ he said charmingly, and Han saw her eyebrows tighten.

Han gave her an enthusiastic wink and barged them through the door to the stairwell. They were crowing and laughing. Dr Riley was probably calling security, but they’d nearly made it. They tumbled out into bright sunlight, and Han stumbled a few steps towards the trees.

Han paused once they were hidden in the trees to let Luke look around. He was completely still, staring up at the light filtering through the trees. Han sometimes forgot the kid had barely seen a leaf in his life. 

‘Keep going!’ said Luke suddenly, laughter now dancing in his eyes, and Han began to walk briskly down the river.

They heard the sound of several running footsteps, and Dr Riley’s distinct bark.

Han let out a string of swear words,

‘Let’s find somewhere to hide,’ Luke said, giggling in hot breaths over Han’s neck. ‘What about under the river bank?’

‘Hold on,’ said Han, and Luke hooked an arm around his neck. Han, very slowly and carefully, slid down the bank on his ass. He snagged on a tree-root. _Rrrrip._

‘Stars, there go my second-best pants.’

‘Those’re your _second-best_? D’you only own two pairs, or something?'

Han found a deep indent in the rock with a craggy overhang that hid them from above view. He set Luke down in it, and Luke leant against the red clay wall, breathing quickly with excitement. Tiny flies buzzed around them, and it was little damp, but they had a good view of the river, of the birds dipping down from the trees to look for fish, which they could make out glinting in shoals in the limpid water.

Luke was staring out at it all, mesmerised. Han watched his pretty eyelashes dip and quiver as his eyes swept from the fish to the birds to the rippling water. His eyes were reflecting the colour of the sky.

‘The birds are so small,’ said Luke, wonderingly. ‘I could hold one in the palm of my hand. And the fish, too – like little fragments of silver.'

‘Yeah. These animals didn’t have to grow big and mean and ugly to survive, like on your ol’ hell-hole of a planet.’

_Funny how a place like that turned out someone like you._

‘No,’ said Luke, smiling slightly, turning to look at Han. ’This is a kind planet. I never used to imagine places like this could exist.'

Luke looked back out at the scene. He was aglow with wonder. It reminded Han suddenly of when he had met Luke, in the cantina on Tatooine.

He was still so young. Sometimes he seemed not to have changed at all from that young, bright-eyed boy he'd been. But when he thought Han wasn’t looking, Luke’s face would tighten to a grimace of pain. It wasn’t a physical pain. It was something else.

And Han was once more overcome with the painful desire to know everything that had happened to him in the last two months.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, Luke leaned his head onto Han’s shoulder.

‘Thanks for the trip,’ Luke said softly. ‘You know, I'm so glad to see you, every time.'

At the same moment, he heard heavy footsteps coming up over them, and knew they were caught.

Luke froze, and Han knew immediately something wasn’t right.

‘Luke?’

He was heaving pained, jagged breaths.

‘Are you choking?’

The footsteps stopped right over them.

‘We know you’re down there,’ said Dr Riley.

‘There’s something wrong with Luke,’ Han shouted up at her.

Luke pressed his tight-clenched fists to his mouth, as if trying to push air into his lungs.

And then someone was descending, sending rocks and debris falling around him and Luke.

‘Luke – what’s wrong?’ Han leaned closer to him, and Luke’s hands reached out to scrabble at his shirt, trying to grip at the fabric.

He looked as though he didn’t know what was happening to him. He was still trying desperately to get air. It was as though his throat had closed up or something.

Dr Riley descended.

‘He’s having a panic attack. Get away,’ she said to the two security guards who had come down with her. ‘You too, Solo. Give him space. It’ll help him breathe.’

Han backed away a little, making sure not to break eye contact with Luke, who was looking at him desperately. He was still barely breathing.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Han said, beginning to panic himself. ‘What the hell do I do?’

‘Breathe, Luke,’ said Dr Riley authoritatively. ‘Breathe with me, now – four counts in, eight counts out.’ She began to count.

Luke was trying, but he didn’t seem to be able to.

‘Luke,’ said Han suddenly. ‘Like this.’ He gently took Luke’s hand and rested the palm on his own chest.

He breathed in and out with Dr Riley’s counts. He mouthed the numbers as he breathed. _‘One, two, three, four. One, two, three…’_

The first time, nothing happened.

The next time, Luke breathed in with him, slow and pained and shuddering.

_One, two, three, four._

Luke breathed out in a long, strained hiss.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight._

‘That’s good,’ said Dr Riley. ‘That’s good, Luke.’

‘I got you, kid,’ Han whispered, and Luke’s eyes locked onto his.

_One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight._

With each cycle Luke seemed to breathe a little more easily. Finally, the tension had left his body, and his chest moved up and down normally. He closed his eyes and leaned back, looking utterly exhausted.

‘I’ll take him back to the hospital,’ said Dr Riley, advancing.

‘I’ll come –’

‘Don’t you dare,’ Dr Riley said, voice white hot with rage. ‘You’ve caused enough damage to my patient for one day, Solo.’

With the guards’ help, Luke was lifted up over the ledge and taken away from him. Han was left alone, staring at the water where the fish had been swimming, which was now darkly swirling with mud kicked up by the guards’ splashing feet.

* * *

 He waited five days, each one more painful than the next. He knew he should stay away. He knew he’d practically be chased out of the hospital. But then he couldn’t wait any longer. Late Saturday evening he was holding a bag of his favourite food from this world, hamburgers, and knocking vigorously on Luke’s door.

A door opened. A tall, curly haired man with two dark slashes for eyebrows was staring suspiciously back at him.

‘Hello!’ said Han cheerfully. ‘Just here to see the patient. I’m –'

‘I know who _you_ are,’ said the man coldly.

‘Great,’ said Han, attempting to push the door open. The man stopped it with his foot.

‘Look, I don’t know _who_ the blazes  –’ Han began aggressively.

‘Is that Han? Let him in, please, Ryk,’ said Luke through the door. The door gave way and Han shoved through. He gave a smarmy fake smile to the curly-headed moron and then a genuine smile to Luke. He looked exhausted, with deep, dark rings beneath his eyes.

‘How’s tricks, kid?'

‘Good, thanks,’ he said, in the soft, dreamy way he had sometimes, lately. He hesitated, then said, ‘Nurse Ryk was telling me about how long they thought I’ve got ’til I’m up and about.'

‘How long?’ said Han abruptly to Ryk.

Ryk glared at him, then consulted his notes.

‘Prescription: daily regime of bacta treatment. Three two-hour sessions of one-on-one psychotherapy a week. Various medicinal regimes. Two osteopathic surgeries. Osteopathic manipulation and physiotherapy treatment. Six weeks of intensive psychiatric rehabilitation.’

Luke smiled at him. ‘I’ll be free to leave the planet in September. That’s good, isn’t it?'

Han didn’t reply. Intensive psychological therapy and various medication? And over a month until Luke was allowed off this dung-heap? Birds and fish be damned, six weeks was a long time to be stuck on any hunk of rock.

It was a longer hospital stay than he’d ever known anyone to have, thought Han, his gut clenching in worry.

Was there something really wrong with him?

'All right. Well, thanks very much, Nurse Ryk, feel free to go,’ Han said with a wide, fake smile, holding the door open. Ryk skulked out.

‘You were lucky it was him, he’s pretty new,’ said Luke. ‘I think if it’d been anyone else, you might have been incarcerated.’

‘I’d better not fall down a well or something in the next few weeks,’ said Han. ‘I think this lot would just as soon say I’m a goner and cut the life support.'

‘Han,’ said Luke admonishingly, but he was grinning. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever.

‘How you sleeping, kid?'

‘Fine.’

‘Hey,’ said Han hesitantly. ‘Can I ask you somethin’ personal?’ Luke nodded. ‘Are you in much pain, now?'

‘A little from my elbow, but they give me meds for it, and the bacta treatment really helps,’ said Luke, putting down his burger and looking perturbed. ‘Han, before – I didn’t mean that you can’t ask me questions at all. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t ask me things.’

‘What’re the surgeries for, then?’ he said roughly.

‘They’re upgrading me,’ said Luke, grinning. ‘Uh, putting a couple pins in my foot, and quite a lot of wire and stuff in my elbow, cause it’s shattered –’

‘They shattered your elbow?’ said Han, unable to stop himself, hands clenching the metal rail on Luke’s bed.

‘Yeah,’ said Luke softly.

Han’s knuckles turned white on the rail. Luke rested his good hand over Han’s.

‘’S’alright, Han,’ he said earnestly, ‘it doesn’t really hurt any more.’

‘I _shouldn’t’ve_ taken you out.’ He’d been beating himself up about it every day and night.

‘Well, I’m glad you did. It was pretty much a perfect trip, ‘til they caught us.’

‘We could’ve avoided anything happening if we’d just stayed in here. They were right,’ he said grudgingly in a low voice.

‘You know, you’re the only who’s been treating me like normal,’ said Luke quietly. ‘Even Leia’s acting like I oughta be wrapped in tissue paper. She’d probably even find a reason to ban these,’ he said, holding up a hamburger.

Han felt uncertainly triumphant.

‘Han Solo, hamburger smuggler,’ he said proudly.

‘I think you could aim higher, career-wise.’

‘I think _you’re_ overestimating my work ethic. Hey, I brought some holo-films along,  'case you felt like watching something.’

Luke’s face lit up. He’d always loved holos.

‘This planet has some great-looking ones,’ Han said, showing him one with a picture of very harmless-looking humans riding very harmless-looking four-legged creatures and swinging very harmless-looking loops of rope. And that was supposed to be a “thrilling action adventure.” Then another that appeared to be about a cute red-headed Melodie and a human falling in love. This whole planet stunk of innocence and sweetness.

Luke, of course, chose the love story.

Han turned to look at Luke when it had finished. He was fast asleep, hand loosening around his burger, whose contents were threatening to slip out onto the floor. Han gently lifted it out of his hand and pulled the blankets over him.

Luke immediately turned towards him and and curled up, murmuring. He looked beautiful and utterly at peace. Han thought that he would stay a while. Just to make sure he was all right.

But an hour later, he slumped forward from his chair, and his head dropped gently onto the bed.

* * *

 ‘Please. _Please_.'

Han jerked awake. Luke was moaning, tossing and turning in the faint blue glow of the holo-projector, sweat shining on his forehead and neck.

‘Luke?’ he said.

Luke whimpered, and then began crying softly, hands making aborted movements of protection over his face.

‘No. No, _please –'_

‘Luke!’ said Han, suddenly very afraid, shaking his shoulder.

_‘Don’t hurt him! Please, don’t –‘_

Han gave Luke a still more frantic shake, and Luke jolted awake. He looked sweaty and pale, fringe sticking to his forehead, wide eyes staring ghost-like at Han.

‘Han?’ he said, eyes wide and terrified. He began to reach out as if to make sure he was real, then stopped.

‘I’m here, kid,’ said Han. ’S’okay.’ He slowly wrapped his hand around Luke’s outstretched one, enfolding his smaller fingers within his own. Luke’s hand was limp.

’S’me, Luke.'

Finally Luke seemed to see him, and the tension in his shoulders dissipated. ‘Han,’ he said miserably. He looked like a wet kitten, with a sweat-streaked face and damp hair. He shifted clumsily on the bed, trying to move closer without hurting his foot or his arm.

‘Wait.’

Instead, Han clambered onto the bed, into the small space between Luke and the metal railing. Luke curled immediately into him. Han’s heart, to his chagrin, began to beat loudly and violently.

 _After dozens of shoot-outs and near-death ship chases, Solo,_ this _is when you choose to panic?_

Luke made a tiny noise, almost a keen, and burrowed his head into Han’s shirt, not seeming to mind his heartbeat. He was still breathing hard. Han could feel his breath through the fabric of his shirt. He stroked Luke’s matted, damp hair.

’S’okay,’ he said as softly as he was able. ‘S’okay, I got you, Luke. No one’s going to get near you while I’m around, all right?’

After some time with them both lying still, save for Han stroking Luke’s hair, Luke pulled back and looked up at him, pale eyes catching the scant light from this planet’s single moon.

‘Han, I –’ He stopped mid-sentence, whipping his head around to the door.

‘Do you hear that?’

Han’s eyebrows furrowed. He could hear nothing.

‘They’re coming,’ said Luke.

‘No,’ said Han, unsure if this was a weird sort of hangover from the dream. ‘No, Luke, there’s no one here but us, remember? You’re safe. I got you.’

Luke’s eyes had taken on the hunted, glazed look they’d had on the station.

‘They’re coming for us.’

‘No, kid. We’re on Terra, in the hospital. We’re safe. '

As Han said it, doubt pricked him. Was it possible that Luke was right? Had the Empire somehow got wind of what had happened and followed them? Got past the cloaking devices and energy fields they’d set up without anyone noticing?

His hand settled on his pocket where his handgun was concealed, and he put his free hand over Luke’s, gripping tightly. The door seemed to tremble, which could have been a gust of wind, but he was suddenly sure someone was on the other side. He withdrew his weapon.

Then Luke screamed, and he nearly fired, but the door hadn’t moved. Luke was screaming rawly, as though he was being attacked, and Han couldn’t see a damn thing.

He cursed loudly, hand shaking as it gripped his gun. Luke was thrashing on the bed, tears streaming down his face.

‘No! Please, no… Han, _Han!'_ he was screaming, but he wasn’t looking at Han. His gaze was fixed on the empty far corner of the room. 'Don't hurt him! Please... Han...'

‘I’m here,’ he said helplessly, paralysed with uncertainty. ‘I’m here, Luke.’

They were still unhurt, there was still no motion or sound apart from the cries coming from Luke. And it settled over Han with a heavy certainty.

It was all in Luke's head.

And in burst three security guards. They swooped down on Han. One slapped cuffs on his wrist. The other, who had crept up from behind, fired something into his shoulder. _Oh, a tranq. That’s perfect._

Han tried to scream to them, ‘No, no, you’ve got it wrong, don’t take me away from him,’ but his words turned to mush, and everything began to swirl and drip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The counting method used by Dr Riley to help Luke through his panic attack should not be taken as medical advice for a real-life panic attack. The number of recommended counts in and out varies, so I used an arbitrary number.
> 
> Also, it's probably clear by now that Terra is meant to be a parallel to planet Earth. I know Star Wars is set "a long time ago," so technically Earth shouldn't have developed hamburgers and DVDs, but I'm set on having them in there, so in this timeline Earth is somewhere beyond year 2500. I'm imagining it's much less densely populated by this stage, with much valuable technology lost and only a few "islands of civilisation" remaining, of which the hospital and surrounding town is one.


	3. Chapter 3

Han woke up to find he was lying in a hospital bed with one hand handcuffed to the bedrail. Luke was awake in the bed next to him. He had a smile on his face, and the changing early morning sunlight was playing in his golden hair. Han felt like he was dreaming.

‘How’re you feeling, old man?'

‘I’ve been better, kid,’ he said. His brain felt like it’d been rattling around inside a bowling ball. He felt a lingering anxiety about Luke, but he couldn’t remember why. ‘How’re you?’ he said sharply.

‘I’m fine. I convinced them to put you in my room, but the guards wouldn’t go so far as uncuffing you,’ said Luke, smile twisting a little. ‘I’m afraid Dr Riley didn’t do much to convince them of your innocence.'

'What happened last night?’ said Han, full of confused, sliding memories. Luke shifted and looked away.

‘Luke?’ he said, his memories solidifying. Luke’s nightmares, and then… he’d seen something. Or nothing. ‘What did you see?’

Luke wouldn’t meet his gaze.

‘I… can’t tell you,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m –'

‘Why not?’ he said thickly. Luke closed his eyes and shook his head.

There was a knock on the door. If it was Dr Riley again, Han would probably lose the plot.

But it was Leia, a small key clutched in her hand. She gave Han a cold glare, which made him roll his eyes, and gave Luke with a look of concern, which made Luke’s troubled gaze give way to a bright, reassuring smile.

_You don’t need to be so strong all the time, kid._

Leia smiled back at Luke. Then: ‘ _You_ ,’ she said, head snapping towards Han. ‘You’re coming with me.'

Ignoring Luke’s protests, Leia freed Han from the bed but left the other cuff on, tugging at it to pull Han out the door. She led him into the same room they’d argue earlier, where she locked him onto an iron heater on the wall. Han sighed.

‘Do you believe the guards’ story, then?’

‘No, I don’t,’ she said, her face softening unexpectedly. Maybe he was more appealing to her when he was cuffed to a heater. ‘I know you’d never attack Luke.

‘But you can’t come back here any longer, Han, not until he’s well. Luke’s too fragile right now, and… Han, you keep hurting him.’

‘I’d never hurt him,’ he said immediately.

Leia took a deep breath. ‘You push Luke to tell you things he’s barely processed himself,’ she said shakily.‘You break him out of his room when he’s just not _ready_ for that kind of psychological pressure, and he has a panic attack. And then you – you trigger a hallucinatory episode…’

Han could barely speak. ‘You – you think I triggered the episode last night?’

‘He hadn’t had one for two weeks. He’s on meds which are supposed to prevent them.’ She paused, looking worried. ‘The doctors think it’s… it’s you that’s the trigger.’

‘They think _I’m – ‘_ he began furiously. Then he stopped, remembering Luke calling his name. Perhaps… perhaps, because he had been in the station with Luke…

‘Luke’s sick, Han,’ Leia said brokenly. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you realise that.’

And then it came to Han in a painful rush.

He’d been so incredibly selfish, all this time. Brushing aside _Luke’s_ need for rest and recovery, because _Han_ wanted to be near him. His reckless stunts – jumping through his window, busting him out of the hospital – what the _hell_ had he been thinking?

It was as though he’d been lying to himself, pretending that Luke was the same when he obviously wasn’t.

And of course Luke had never protested or turned him away. Even when Han had endangered him.

It was an intensely painful realisation.

‘Leia…’ This was hard to say. ‘If you think I should stay away, if you think that’s best for him, I will.'

Leia’s gaze was pitying, almost affectionate. ‘Look, Han, I care about you, and so does Luke. But I really think it would help if you didn’t come by for a while. At least – until he’s better.'

He looked at her more closely and saw the anxiety and concern etched on her face. She’d nearly lost Luke too, and she was still afraid for him.

But still, it was a hard promise to make.

* * *

 Weeks passed with no contact from anyone. Han got the odd job offer, but he never accepted one that lasted longer than a few days, and he always landed back in his spot by the hospital with relief.

He was offered another particularly lucrative one, which unfortunately would involve a three-week trip to a neighbouring system, so he gave it to Chewie.

[You can’t just hang around here doing nothing, Han,] said Chewie.

‘Luke’s out in less than three weeks,’ he said. Chewie shook his head and lumbered off to hire a ship.

How could he explain it to Chewie? To anyone? The way it had felt in those two months Luke had been gone?

Leia had said she knew he was alive, that she’d tell him the second she felt him go, but Han had known it could happen at any time. He, R2D2 and Chewie had searched the galaxy frantically, incessantly. He’d begun to shake from lack of sleep. Chewie had had to force him to eat something, and had keened with worry for him.

As he’d searched system after system, R2D2 again and again telling him no, Luke wasn’t here, memories of Luke had begun to slip through his mind unbidden, like sand through fingers.

Several memories, imbued with a soft, diffused glow like afternoon sun, were of Luke when he’d first met him, a cocksure little nineteen-year-old. He’d used to stay up as late as he could bear on the Falcon, sitting in the cockpit just to listen to Han’s stories about his most hair-raising escapes, the bizarrest creatures, the most beautiful and the most terrifying worlds he’d ever seen. Sitting on the edge of his seat, blue eyes wide. Han had begun to think that the kid was cute when you got to know him.

One memory like the spark of a match in a pitch-black room: the Falcon had been pulled into the gravity of a weird, blackly glowing asteroid and the ship’s power had suddenly and inexplicably shut down, and in the surge of dark trepidation Luke’s slender hand seizing his own in the darkness.

And one memory which glowed brightly like a jewel in the sun. The Alliance base had moved to Reos, a planet of lilac and indigo, and they’d gone there after they’d destroyed the Death Star.

Han was watching his hands turn violet in the sunset when Luke had said quietly to him something he’d never forgotten.

Pulling him back to Terra, his phone began to ring. An unknown caller.

‘Hello?'

‘Han? It’s Leia.’

‘Is Luke all right?’

‘Yes, he’s fine,’ she said. ‘He’s in perfect health, physically. But –’

‘What?’

She was silent for a while. ‘He’s totally fine in company, but when he’s alone... the hallucinations and the nightmares are getting worse. They won’t let out of his room unsupervised any more. He’s – he’s very fragile.’

Han’s heart sank.

‘I… I think…’

She paused.

‘I think I was wrong. To ask you to stay away. To convince Dr Riley you were bad for him.’

‘ _What?’_

‘In his sleep, Luke’s been saying – well – it doesn’t matter, but I – I was wrong, Han. I should never have pushed you away. I’m sorry.’

‘Can I come see him, then?’ Han said desperately.

‘No,’ Leia hissed. ‘You’re public enemy number one at the hospital. There’s no chance they’ll let you in, and you are _not_ breaking in again.’

‘So what do you want me  –’

‘There’s a dance this Friday, in the hospital grounds. The annual Healer Ball. It’s a tradition that extends back hundreds of years. Dr Riley thinks Luke will be all right to attend, and I thought maybe you’d like to come.’


	4. Chapter 4

 

The ball was held in the forest just behind the hospital. The tall trees with spreading branches made a kind of canopy, though they didn’t need one: the night was clear and warm, fading to mauve as the single sun set. The forest had been decorated with hundreds of small floating glass orbs, which were glowing like tiny moons, bumping into one another with light chinking sounds and wandering off in a different direction.

Han stood awkwardly in the Terran suit he’d managed to buy, which was stiff and too tight around the neck. He couldn’t see Luke or Leia. The laughing, chatting, lightly drunk guests were, overwhelmingly human, which made things much more difficult. He seized a drink from a nearby waiter and downed it.

He felt out of place. He always had, though. He’d never belonged, not with anyone. He felt too hot in the suit, and for a minute he wanted to turn and run.

‘Mr Solo,’ someone said behind him.

It was Dr Riley. Han nodded tersely, and looked away.

‘It’s a pleasure to see you here,’ she said.

He looked at her suspiciously.

‘Mr Solo, I feel an apology is in order. I’ve spoken with Leia. It seems we misjudged your influence too quickly.’

A few weeks ago they’d all been clamouring to have him burned at the stake, and now suddenly they were on his side? What had happened to change their minds?

‘I wanted to say,’ she said stiffly. ‘It seems you have been left rather in the dark about Luke’s condition, and he’s mentioned concerns to me about your lack of information. He wished me to seek you out and enlighten you, and also to answer any questions you may have.’

All right, then.

‘What’s the matter with him? Tell me straight.’

‘To put it succinctly: Luke is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder from torture. There is a large mental block, which is common. Large sections of memories from his captivity are inaccessible. I am also aware that Luke is Force-sensitive, and his ability to access the Force appears greatly hindered. And there are numerous other symptoms, among them nightmares, panic attacks, and hallucinations.’

‘Is any of this abnormal?’

‘No. There’s no “normal” way to respond to trauma, Mr Solo.’

‘How long will it take him to recover? For things to start getting better?’

‘That’s hard to say. Recovery is a complicated process. Some aspects of the disorder may disappear in a few weeks. Others may stay for the rest of his life.’

So what she was really saying was she had no damn idea, none of them did. He didn’t reply.

‘Han?'

‘Yes?'

‘He’s incredibly strong.’

Han closed his eyes.

‘Your absence… it seemed to be hard for him,’ she added, voice as neutral as ever.

Han didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to hear that after all the painful, desperate effort he’d gone to keep away from Luke, he’d ended up hurting him more. He thanked Dr Riley and walked away.

Then – just for a second before hidden by moving people – he glimpsed golden hair.

He started walking quickly. Another glimpse and he was sure it was him. Luke was weaving in and out of sight so fast, seeming to be moving away as quickly as Han followed – for a few unexplainable seconds Han felt as though he was losing him yet again –

Luke turned into a room.

He followed. It was a library. Luke was at the bookshelves, his back to Han, his hand hovering and then settling on a book.

‘Luke?’ Luke turned around.

It was strange. Everyone he knew, even his closest friends, sometimes felt like a stranger to him. But here was the one person who never did.

‘I didn’t know you were coming,’ Luke said. The book in his hand was _Bird Species of the World._

‘You can walk now,’ he said redundantly.

‘Yes.'

A strain of swaying brass music drifted over to them. An echo of old mischievousness returned.

‘Ah, but can you dance?’ he said teasingly.

’’Course I can dance,’ said Luke indignantly, a hint of youthful cockiness rising as if in response, and threw his book down and grabbed Han’s hands.

‘No, not like that. Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to dance before?’ he said, pulling Luke closer.

‘No,’ said Luke, trying to pretend he wasn’t flushing. ‘Who was I going to dance with, the droids?'

Han put Luke’s hand on on his shoulder, and rested his own on Luke’s slender waist.

‘All right, I’ll teach you a box step,’ he said. After he’d shown him the moves, he tried to lead Luke around the room. Luke stepped inelegantly on his toes, laughing, and almost tripped him up several times. Finally, they gave up and collapsed together on the couch. Luke leaned on his shoulder and made a frustrated sound.

’S’alright, twinkle-toes,’ he said, ruffling his hair. ‘I guess this means we’ve finally found something I can beat you at. You wanna try it a bit slower?’ said Han.

‘Can we just stay like this for a while? It’s nice here. Quiet.’

‘Sure. Must be nice without people coming up to you every minute, as well.’

Han had heard snatches of gossip from the hospital staff every time he’d walked the hospital floors, and tonight was no different.

_Princess Leia’s twin brother… top-secret mission.... badly hurt… apparently can’t use the Force any more… yes, strange hallucinations apparently, no one’s quite sure what..._

‘They keep staring at me.’

‘Well, think how much harder they’d be starin' if they’d seen you tryna dance.'

Luke cuffed him in the shoulder with his good arm, then pulled his legs up and turned to face Han, looking serious.

‘I feel like I haven’t even had a proper conversation with you,’ said Luke, looking guilty.

‘We can fix that.’ He glanced at Luke’s book. ‘So, uh, you wanna tell me about some bird species of the world?’

Luke was bemused.

‘Oh, right, the book. I was trying to look up this one that landed on my windowsill today… it was _so tiny._ It was red and green…’

The music was slow, now, and dreamy, and sad.

‘Red and green, huh?’ Han murmured, pulling Luke to his feet and wrapping his arms around his waist. This time Luke knew what to do, hands curling up around Han’s neck. They swayed slowly together to the music.

‘Yeah, and it was so small, the size of one of Chewie’s teeth…’

‘I’d like to see one.’

But Han found his mind was drifting helplessly away from the light conversation, back once more to the image of the kid lying there in that metal place devoid of light. He wrapped his arms ever more tightly around him, so tightly Luke could hardly move.

‘Han,’ said Luke, laughing breathlessly, ‘I don’t think this is how you’re meant to slow dance.’

Han buried his head in his shoulder and swallowed hard.

‘Han?’

All the emotion he had been trying to ignore, to look past as if it wasn’t there, now threatened to crash over him in a wave and submerge him. He swallowed again as tears leaked from the corners of his tight-closed eyes.

‘You… you were… ‘

‘Han –‘ gentle hands were running over his back and shoulders, up to gently run through his hair. ‘It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t cry.’

‘I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, ever again,’ whispered Han. ‘I’ll kill them if they try.’ Luke’s hands stilled in his hair, and he was silent.

‘Sorry,’ he said, heart racing. Why the stars had he said that aloud? ‘I’m blind drunk. Ignore me.’

Luke’s eyes were concerned, now, and he pulled Han to sit down on the couch.

‘What was it like for you,’ Luke said, ‘when I was gone?’

‘It was hard,’ said Han simply. ‘But it doesn’t matter. That’s… that’s nothing to what you must’ve been going through.’ And he felt the tears coming, and his face crumpled.

‘I – I just wish – I feel so useless – powerless. All I want is – to somehow go back, and stop it from ever happening,’ he said.

Luke was gently stroking his hands.

‘You know, it’s not so bad,’ he said softly. ‘I can’t remember much. I mostly just feel blank, washed-out. The days seem long now, that’s all. And I don’t really know who I’m supposed to be any more.’

It’s better, when you’re here. You help me remember.’

‘I do?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, smiling. ‘With you… everything is easy again.’

‘Well, I’ll… I’m always here to distract you. Anything you need. Holo-films, adventures, conversation. Any time, you just holler out.’

‘You don’t need to entertain me. I just need... you.’

Han was silent for a while.

‘Han?’ said Luke uncertainly. ‘Did I say the wrong thing?’

‘Before you were captured,’ he said, ‘I’d been thinking a lot. About this thing – this thing I wanted to tell you. But it was hard to actually... say.’

Luke waited.

‘You know, Luke, you’re the bravest, and the most selfless, and the strongest person I know.’

Luke shook his head.

Han looked down at the floor. ‘And it kind of drives a guy to despair, you know. When he’s weak, and cowardly, and selfish most of the time, and he’s falling in love with someone like you.’

He couldn’t look up. He didn’t dare.

‘So, you know, I kept asking myself, what do _I_ have to offer Luke Skywalker? And after a lot of thought, I realised. I didn’t have anything. Nothing to offer someone like you.’

‘Han –’

He went on recklessly. He felt that if he stopped talking now, he’d never start again.

‘But then you said something to me. It was on the Alliance base after you destroyed the Death Star. One night we went out to watch the suns set. You remember?'

‘Yeah.’

‘And you were afraid. Saying you didn’t think you could be a hero,’ said Han, his throat feeling gluey and swollen. ‘So I told you that you might doubt yourself but I never would. And then you said –’

‘I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you,’ Luke said quietly.

‘Yeah. I know it might’ve just been a throwaway kinda comment, but – it made me think– so maybe that’s what I have to offer him.’ His voice cracked. ‘Maybe I can’t be brave enough, or good enough, or strong enough. I’ve got no Force running through me, no devotion to a higher cause. But maybe that’s a good thing. It means I can love him. I can love him entirely. With all of me. And maybe that’s – that’ll be enough…'

Silence from Luke.

‘But I was wrong,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘I was thinking like I could earn your love, somehow, but I see now how stupid an idea that was. How naive. I don’t think that any more.

‘All I want, now, after all this, is for you to be safe n’ happy. I’ll do anything to make sure you are. Even if this conversation is makin’ you uncomfortable I can leave –’

‘Wait, Han – ‘ Luke began.

‘Luke?’ The lights turned on. It was Leia. ‘Han?’

Han got to his feet. He felt so shaken he almost couldn’t see straight.

‘Better be going,’ he said, forcing a jovial tone, and left before either of them could say anything.

* * *

 

The next morning, at 5am, he got a phone call. He hadn’t yet managed to make it to sleep, had spent all night analysing and re-analysing the two-second glimpse he’d got of Luke's reaction.

He had the growing, aching suspicion that Luke was disturbed by his confession. That he’d ruined everything between them.

 _Only one thing you can do, in that case. Do your best to make him happy,_ he thought, his heart wrenching. _If he wants you to go, you go. But he might need you now more than ever, as a friend. You’ll always be that if he needs it. You’ll always be the person he can trust._

‘Han?’ It was Leia. ‘Han, you need to come to the hospital.'

‘What’s the matter?'

‘It’s Luke.'

* * *

 

Leia was looking at him anxiously, any former distrust in her eyes now gone.

‘He’s been out all night. We can’t find him.'

‘How is that possible? Don’t you have droids for this kind of thing?’

'They’re not picking him up. It’s possible he’s using the Force somehow, to hide himself, but even I can’t sense him.’

‘We believe he’s had another episode, and thought it was apt to call you.’ said Dr Riley. ‘You two have run around the grounds enough times, maybe you’d know where he’d go.’

‘It was _one_ time!’ Han growled, slamming his fist on the table. Leia murmured a warning.

Getting angry wouldn’t help find Luke. He strode briskly to the door.

‘Do you know where he is?’ said Leia quickly.

’No,’ Han said, wrenching the door open. ‘But I’ve found him once already, haven’t I?'

He slid down the bank and landed painfully on his ankle. This definitely wasn’t the same place as before. But he had no idea where it had been, and besides, Luke probably didn’t either, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d come here.

He decided to comb the entire riverbank.

After twenty minutes, he was growing despairing. He couldn’t stop visions of Luke, pale and cold after a night’s exposure, coming into his head every time he closed his eyes.

‘Damn it,’ he said, shaking his head to remove the fearful thoughts.

Nothing. He shouted Luke’s name over and over as he ran down the length of the river. It seemed to go on forever. And then – a white figure – was it an illusion? No – and he ran over. There, wet and pale, a horrible echo of a memory, looking up at him and blinking softly like he’d just woken up from a dream –

‘Luke.’ He almost fell over in his haste to get to him.

‘Han,’ Luke said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He was lying back against the riverbank, lashes fluttering. Han took his hand. It was so cold.

‘They found me. They were everywhere –'

‘It’s ok, kid. I’m here now.'

'You came to find me?’ he breathed, his face looking disbelieving. Han saw he was trembling.

‘Of course,’ said Han, his voice breaking. ‘Of course, baby. I’ll always come find you.'

He knelt down and took Luke’s other hand in his own.

Luke looked at him, eyes shining darkly, the hunted look still in his eyes. Water dripped from his hair and clung to his eyelashes, and he started to shake more violently.

‘Let’s go,’ said Han, and tried to pull Luke to his feet. But Luke wasn’t strong enough to stand.

Han bent down, and once more gathered Luke up in his arms.

* * *

 This time, Han forcefully resisted any attempts by hospital staff to even waft him towards the direction of the door.

He watched as they peeled off Luke’s clothes and wrapped him with some kind of stiff, thick blanket. He rested his hand on it – it was radiating a pleasant warmth. They hooked Luke up to a monitor.

‘To check his core temp, and cardiac rhythm,’ a merciful nurse explained to him.

‘What’s his core temp like?'

‘It’s still in the safe range, just. You found him just in time, Mr. Solo.'

After a couple of hours – during which three more human staff were called in, one to reassure Leia and the other two to calm down Han, while Dr Riley ignored both of them completely – they told Han Luke was safe and he’d make a full recovery, he just needed to rest.

‘Can I stay?’

‘Yes,’ said Dr Riley. ‘But everyone else must leave now, please.’

Leia looked at him appraisingly before she left.

‘What’s that for?’ he said, bristling.

‘Nothing,' she said, giving him a small, genuine smile.

He sat next to Luke and watched him, unsure of what to do. But Luke’s eyes opened immediately.

‘Were you faking?’ said Han indignantly.

’No, I was really almost asleep, but I wanted to talk to you,’ he said. His eyes seemed heavy, and he rubbed them.

‘It can wait,’ said Han, touching Luke’s wrist. Luke shook his head.

‘Han?’ he said quietly.

'Yeah?'

'I see you. In the hallucinations. They've found you, and they're hurting you.'

'I know,' said Han gently. He'd guessed a while ago. 'Was that why you couldn't tell me?'

'Not the only reason,' said Luke. 'I... I was afraid.'

'Of what?'

'I... torture took me to a place I... Afterwards I felt like I wasn't Luke Skywalker any more. And I was scared if you knew how different I was now, how much of a mess, you'd look at me different. And you're... it was so bad in there. Somehow I didn't want to have that horror touch you. I'm sorry.'

'It's all right,' said Han gently.

‘Han? Do you think I’m crazy?’

‘No.’

Luke looked doubtful.

‘I think torture leaves deep scars on the mind, and that’s all this is. And I think you’re the strongest person I know. So – so I know that one day, you’ll be okay.’

Luke smiled faintly, but then shook his head.

‘I’m not those things you said I was,’ he said. ‘I’m not good, or brave, or strong.'

‘Well, I guess it’s a matter of opinion,’ he said, thinking of the fear shining bright in Luke’s eyes before he had walked away from him to fly into the Death Star. Of the way Eloise Riley had talked about him at the ball, with pent-up emotion in her usually dry voice. And of Luke smiling at him so brightly the day after being rescued from a torture chamber.

'You know, you were always there,’ Luke said suddenly, ‘in that place, in my dreams, every night.'

‘I was?’

‘Yes. But then… my thoughts started to go strange. You know the men would keep me standing in this pitch-black room, for days and days. And after a while in there, I found I couldn’t remember your face. It was all – the features were all wrong. And I thought... it’s only been a few days and I’m already... forgetting his face.’ He gave a dry sob. ‘I felt so… weak. Couldn’t even hold on to the only thing that really –’

But there he stopped himself.

‘It’s not weak,’ said Han, heart aching. ‘It’s not weak to forget, when someone’s torturing you.’

 _How could they_ , _how_ could _they?_

He wanted to enfold Luke in his arms and promise him he’d always be safe, but that was something a lover would do, and Han was only a friend, so he stayed where he was.

‘Sides, my face is right here.’ he said finally. ‘So you can look at it as much as you like, if you ever want to remind yourself.’

Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and, very lightly, brushed away a tear tracking down Luke’s cheek. Luke smiled with wet eyes and then, as though taking him at his word, began to search Han’s face intently. He drew closer to Han, as if seeking something. Han could make out the different shades of blue in his eyes.

On impulse, he kissed him. And pulled away immediately.

‘I – I’m sorry, I –’

But Luke was reaching out to him. A trembling hand settled on the back of Han’s neck pulling him down.

And then his mouth was on Han’s, curious and eager, warm and gentle. He murmured softly, deep in his throat, as Han deepened the kiss. Han’s tongue touched Luke’s gently, searching his mouth, as if like this he could know him fully.

They kissed for what seemed like an age, neither wanting to let the other go, breaking apart and then their mouths finding one another again, drawn by some invisible force.

Finally Luke broke away, tucked his head under Han’s chin. ‘I – I love you,’ Luke breathed into his neck. But Han knew he had heard him wrong.

‘I love you,’ Luke said again, clearly.

He felt as though the sky and earth on this planet had flipped over, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

'You do?’ he said, needing just one more confirmation.

Luke laughed. He nodded, lowered his eyes, and pressed a kiss to Han’s jaw. Han gently sought out his mouth again.

* * *

The next morning, Han woke to find his his mouth pressed against soft golden hair.

Luke was in his arms, sleeping safe and peaceful. It felt like a miracle, like a gift he didn’t deserve. He lay there for over an hour, listening to his soft, even breaths, until Luke stirred and turned towards him, his eyes opening.

‘Oh,’ he said, and broke into a sleepy smile, burying his head down into Han’s chest.

‘Mornin’, beautiful,’ Han said, holding him tightly.

Finally he had to break away from Luke to go and get them both coffee. Luke leaned against him the second he sat back down on the bed, as if he'd missed the contact.

Han had been thinking about something.

‘You know how you were tellin’ me, kid, that you weren’t good, brave, or strong?'

‘Yes. It's true. Sometimes I'm none of those things. I'm not a hero, Han.’

‘Well, no, you’re human. And humans ain’t perfect and they ain’t consistent. No one knows that better’n me.’

Luke bit his lip. ‘You think I’m better than I am, Han. I’m so messed up right now.’

‘Well, let me tell you something, kid. I’m gonna love you no matter what, and you’d better accept it. I’ll keep lovin’ you when you’re good, and brave, and strong, and in perfect health, and I'll keep lovin’ you at your very worst. When you’re afraid, or selfish, or weak, or sick, even when you think you've gone crazy. Because... it’s _you,_ Luke.

‘And you know, if you decide you want to give all that hero business up – if you decide to, I dunno, get a cottage on the hills on this planet and spend your days knitting and keeping an aviary, I’d love you just as damn much as if you took any other path.’

Luke laughed, head falling onto Han’s shoulder. ‘Hey, how’d you know I wanted an aviary?’

‘Just a hunch,’ he said, fingers sliding into Luke’s soft hair. ‘You know,' he said, voicing a thought that had been bumping around his head since last night, 'I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.’

Luke smiled as if this was a good joke.

‘What?’

‘Well, that’s what I keep thinking.’

Han scowled and said he’d got things seriously wrong somewhere, because Han was an idiot and a scoundrel, he was reckless and hot-headed and a thousand other things, and as he talked Luke got a steady, calm look in his eyes, as though nothing could shake him, and leaned forward to kiss Han mid-sentence.

And so Han shut up, and kissed him back.


End file.
